


Robin Red Breast

by haku23



Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-12
Updated: 2014-03-12
Packaged: 2018-01-15 12:57:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,216
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1305652
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/haku23/pseuds/haku23
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Steve and Bucky wax each other's chests. How bad could it really be?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Robin Red Breast

**Author's Note:**

> This is for a prompt over on stevebuckyfest though I ended up going for the 'they wax at home' side rather than the salon side. Because they're independent men they can wax their own chests!!! Why? Who knows. It's more gen than a pairing fic but I didn't really know how to work a relationship into a crackfic to be honest. 
> 
> http://stevebucky-fest.dreamwidth.org/307.html?thread=820275#cmt820275

Steve places the at-home waxing kit times two on the counter along with a package of gum and a Thank You card that he owes to the Department of Veterans Affairs for having he and Bucky as guests of honour at their charity gala. Of course he doesn't _really_ want to thank them for the gala because Bucky still complains about how tight his damn tie had been even a week later and Steve himself only has so much patience, and hell he's probably not supposed to send _them_ the card is he? But the event has raised enough money to better serve the veterans of Brooklyn so maybe he ought to send them a card. He resolves to Google it when he gets home-he can always keep it if it turns out that it's tacky to send it. It'd been easier before, with the USO taking care of all of that kind of thing, but he owes them the effort at least.

 

“Sir?” the drugstore employee raises her perfectly plucked eyebrows at him and he hands over his card.

 

He expects more of a fuss when she rings the waxing kit through, if he's totally honest, but then Tony's shown him UFC and some of the men on there are totally hairless so it can't be too odd nowadays. He departs the store with a 'have a nice night'-keeping the 'ma'am' unspoken because women don't much like being called 'ma'am' these days-and heads for the apartment he and Bucky share.

 

A few people pass him by as he strides from one sphere of yellow streetlight light to another and a faintly warm breeze ruffles his hair. They don't live far from the necessities for all that Bucky prefers a bit more privacy but sometimes they pass a grate and hear the rumble of the subway below them and Bucky smiles like he's home for good this time.

 

When he gets inside Bucky sits perched on the sofa, legs splayed out like he owns the joint, and he holds up the bag with a grim sort of satisfaction at having made it back without incident. “Anyone ask you what a guy like you was doing with a waxing kit?”

 

“Nah, what about you, ready for it?”

 

“Think we've both had worse than rippin' out our hair, Steve.”

 

He shrugs and it's Bucky's way of coping but he still can't get used to having home joke about everything. Still, he manages a grin and Bucky kicks him in the thigh with the flat of his foot when he gets close enough, “gonna be way less painful than that.”

 

“Shut up, I'm gonna make you go first.”

 

“We oughta do it together. Nah, tell you what. I'll do you, you do me.”

 

This sounds a lot like the time Bucky'd said they should become blood brothers and they'd both gotten smacks upside the head for getting blood everywhere after Steve's veins enthusiastically agreed with the whole blood part of the brothers thing and yet he hears himself agreeing anyway.

 

They unpack the implements of the waxing kit and set them on the table before flipping the box over to read the instructions.

 

“Heat strips with hands...” Steve mutters to himself as Bucky looks over his shoulder, “you really think just rubbing them'll get them hot enough?”

 

“I look like I know about this kind of thing?”

 

He glances at the chest hair peeking out of Bucky's shirt and raises his eyebrows, “not at all.”

 

“Shaddup. The box says to rub 'em in your hands.”

 

“Okay, you take one and I'll take one,” Steve says and sets down the pink box on the table and picks up one of the long, white strips. “Ok so now we rub it until it gets hot and peel it apart.”

 

Bucky nods, his face a mask of concentration that Steve recognizes from the shooting range, and they pull the strips apart together. “You gonna take off your shirt or what?”

 

He sets the strips down for a second while he pulls his shirt over his head and Bucky does the same. “Alright. Now press the strip onto the place you wanna wax and wait for the wax to cool before you pull it off.”

 

Bucky slaps the strip horizontally across Steve's chest with a smirk.

 

“You're supposed to put it the way the hair grows, Bucky.”

 

“How the hell do I know which way your hair grows? Can barely see it anyway.”

 

“Well it's there and it doesn't grow that way,” he smacks his strip down on Bucky's chest, vertically, and just the right of his nipple. He rubs it in, smiles as Bucky mirrors the action. They've both definitely had worse, but it'll still hurt and if Steve's learned anything from living with Bucky it's that he doesn't go easy-not even when he'd been a pipsqueak with asthma.

 

“How long're we supposed to wait?”

 

“It didn't say. Until it's cool.”

 

They wait all of two seconds before they're both reaching out and yanking the strips away.

 

Bucky howls in what Steve assumes is agony-though he can't be certain because he's yelling too- and they both stop pulling, “finish it, Rogers!”

 

“On three we pull,” he breathes and wonders how the hell people do this on a regular basis because it feels like his skin has been set on fire and it's a feeling he knows fairly well by now. “One, two-”

 

Bucky tears the strip off of Steve's chest and he swears to God that he sees white for a second though he manages to keep himself from vocalizing the 'ow fuck ow' that repeats in his head like a techno beat. When he rips the strip off of Bucky he breathes out loudly but doesn't say a word.

 

“Okay,” Steve drops the hair covered strip, his chest still burning slightly.

 

“Okay, that wasn't so bad,” Bucky says, jaw tightly clenched.

 

“You wanna...keep going?”

 

“How's it look?” he asks, his eyes fixed on the deceptively brightly coloured box and his left arm twitching like he'd like to tear it apart.

 

“Like you got in a fight with a razor. What about mine?”

 

“Like your costume had a boob window and it was sunny out.”

 

“We could just not take our shirts off until it grows back.”

 

Bucky turns his attention to him, “Natalia will find out about this and if she's gonna stare at me it's because my chest is completely smooth, got it?”

 

“Yeah, alright,” Steve laughs, thinking of the look Natasha would give them both if she saw them with patches of hairless skin. He picks up the strip and warm it up again, presses it onto Bucky's chest then waits for him to do the same. “Ready?”

 

“Ready.”

 

Steve is reasonably sure that if they don't finish soon the cops will be on their doorstep but they continue, smoothing down the wax and then peeling it back off until they're both breathing heavy and their chests are smooth.

 

Bucky rips the box to shreds when they're finished and deposits the tiny pink and grey chunks into the garbage while Steve wets some washcloths in the bathroom.

 

“Next time just pick up some razors,” he calls to him and Steve can't agree any more enthusiastically than he does.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! 
> 
> I've only ever really waxed once. And it hurt so bad that I never did it again ...I think it's safe to say Steve and Bucky are firmly in that camp too. :'D


End file.
